


For Me to Fall

by elysiumwaits



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Gentle Dom Steve Harrington, Jonathan is a switch, Multi, Pegging, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Safewords, Sub Billy Hargrove, Vulnerability, also, so is nancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: Billy asked for this. Hewantsthis. He's done dirtier, he's checked a lot of boxes off on his kink list. So why is he so nervous?
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	For Me to Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Highsmith (quimtessence)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/gifts).



> Happy Smut4Smut, here's some poly. I hope it's okay that this got set in a modern universe. Don't ask me why, sometimes those things just happen. Uh, this got soft, with a side dish of vulnerability and trust kink. What can I say? I'm human, I look at Billy Hargrove, I think, "Oh, that boy needs a dick in his ass, stat." And somehow this also became just like praise-kink-a-palooza.
> 
> This is a dynamic I definitely want to work with again. I really was just out here like, "You know what, they love each other and they're having a good time and Billy deserves nice things." And then that became 6000 words of soft, vulnerable Billy.
> 
> So I hope you like it! 
> 
> Title is from the Halsey song "Finally // Beautiful Stranger."

Billy's nervous. 

He shouldn't be. There's nothing here to be nervous about, not one single thing. He's been fucked in the ass before, many times in many different positions. Steve's cock is bigger than that strap-on, after all. Steve's cock is, like, the kind that belongs in porn, sometimes rides the line of "too big." Actually, Billy thinks that the strap-on might be roughly the same size as Jonathan's cock. Maybe even smaller. Billy has been fucked thoroughly by both Jonathan _and_ Steve, sometimes one right after the other, so this strap-on should be... easy. 

He's making it a bigger deal than it has to be.

It _shouldn't_ be a big deal.

He hasn't admitted that he's nervous. He doesn't have to, which is... nice. They already know, just from knowing him and knowing his body language, and Billy's grateful that no one's brought it up to "make sure" or "double-check" so that he doesn't have to think too hard about it. He said yes, he _wants it_ , and he knows that they know that talking it to death will just make him _more_ nervous about it. Or something. Never let it be said that Billy is a paragon of rationality, especially in this middle of _this_ \- Jonathan's cock in his mouth, Nancy's slim fingers stretching him, and Steve's soothing voice, whispering all the dirty little praises he can think of into Billy's ear.

It's just. This is the first thing that Billy's really _asked_ for, not just mentioned, _"Hey, this might be hot."_ It's the first thing he's _really_ wanted to try, something he's wanted for a long time. He's never admitted it to anyone before. 

"You're gonna look so good," Steve murmurs. 

His hand is in Billy's hair, but he's not being mean about it, isn't gripping it tight like Billy likes sometimes. Steve's holding his head still so that Jonathan can rock in and out, slow and steady. Steve's not making him take Jonathan deep enough to get either of them anywhere - it's just serving as a distraction. Billy can't choke on it like he likes to, because Steve's holding him _still_ , making him be _good._ Sometimes Billy likes that even more than he likes gagging on it, and this is one of those times. 

"You always look good," Steve adds, like Billy somehow forgot to look in a mirror this morning. He rolls his eyes, and Steve gives him a playful little tug in retaliation. "I might be biased, baby, but I think you're at your best when you're stuffed full at both ends." It's nothing he hasn't said before. Hell, it's nothing Billy himself hasn't said before. Still, today it makes Billy flush, makes something curl in his gut at the praise. 

Nancy's fingers are small, just like the rest of her. Delicate. That doesn't stop them from being downright wicked as they work Billy open, slow and careful. It would be sweet if it weren't on purpose, if it weren't completely designed to ramp Billy up even more. She doesn't _need_ to be careful with him like this, so it's just teasing now. The point of this, after all, is to make him lose it, make him forget his own name and all of the shame he has wrapped up inside himself, get him somewhere beyond his own mind. He can't even beg with the heavy weight of Jonathan's cock on his tongue, the dirty slide in and out, can't pull off of it to choke out a ' _please_ ' with Steve's hand in his hair.

It's perfect. It's exactly what he wants. 

She presses a kiss to Billy's lower back, at the dip of his spine, and gets a third finger into him. It's not a challenge in terms of stretch - he's taken more, so much more - but the gentle intimacy, the soothing press of Nancy's forehead against his skin is almost too much to bear. Too overwhelming, makes him itch with a need for bravado and bluster at the same time he wants to hide his face away in the blankets if they'd let him. Billy's getting better about not hiding behind walls, though. This is just another brick knocked out of the way.

And he _wants_ it. Wouldn't have asked for it if he didn't. Wouldn't have been _able_ to ask if he didn't trust them all so damn much.

It's only when Billy's taking all three of Nancy's fingers easy - index, middle, and ring - that she goes from focusing on the actual preparation to slowly, slowly working Billy up by glancing over his prostate. His breath catches the first time. It feels like an accident, even though he knows it isn't. She's used a lot of lube, because Steve told her to, told Billy that they wanted him to open nice and easy for them. It makes obscene, slick sounds as Nancy fingers him, rubs the pad of her finger over his prostate like she's chasing the shivers and jolts of his body when she does. Again and again, until Billy's _finally_ making noise, whining around Jonathan's cock with little moans that he can't help, can't keep back. Steve's hand is firm in his hair, keeping him in place even as his arms are already shaking where he's trying to hold himself up. 

Usually he's pretty liberal with the noises he makes in bed. Usually it doesn't take so much work to make him moan.

Jonathan pulls away, cock slipping free from Billy's mouth. Billy wants to chase it, but he wants to be good for them even more. Take what he's given instead of being greedy about it. It helps that Steve's still got a hold on his hair, helps that they know they have to _make_ Billy be good sometimes so that he can't sabotage himself. Truth is, Billy doesn't always know what to do with the good feelings they all give him. Sometimes it's easier to be an asshole than it is to show any weakness.

"So fucking pretty, baby." Steve's mouth is still pressed to the shell of Billy's ear, the line of his body stretched out beside where Billy's on his hands and knees on the bed. He's _lounging_ , holding court without really meaning to just like he did when they were back in high school, before Billy came along and snatched the crown off of his head. It looks a lot like the thirst traps he posts on Instagram. "You're gonna be so good for us. Aren't you?"

It takes a couple of tries to get the words out, made even harder by the way that Nancy's fucking relentless on his prostate now. Gasps escape him as sparks of shocky pleasure shoot up Billy's spine and back down again. His cock is hard and leaking, despite his nerves. Maybe even because of them. He knows the plan, and he's _excited_ , knows that it doesn't matter if he comes now because they're going to push him through it. Get him where he wants to go.

"Yeah," he finally manages, reedy. Between the noises Nancy's pulling from him, the ones that Billy is trying and failing to quiet. "Fuck, _please_ , 'm ready."

"You're so sweet when you want something." He can _feel_ Steve grin against his ear, quick nip of teeth that has Billy shivering. "You're ready? You sure, baby?" It's a rhetorical question. He doesn't actually give Billy a chance to answer. "Nance, what do you think, is he ready?"

Nancy hums in response, the noise vibrating against Billy's skin where her lips are still pressed. She's kissed a constellation onto his back, he thinks. "Maybe," she says, light and teasing. Her fingers are anything but, pressing hard and insistent against that little nub of sensation. It's so good, overwhelmingly so. He's a little relieved when she lets up. "You probably want to check. Just to be sure."

"Good idea." Steve's hand leaves Billy's hair, and Billy lets his head drop forward. Jonathan's lap is still underneath him, cock hard and leaking and shiny wet from Billy's mouth, legs under where Billy's got himself up on his arms. He's moving before he catches himself, leaning forward to lick at the tip and the little bead of pre-come there. 

It's all he gets. Jonathan's hand is the one that cards through his hair this time, tugs him gently back and away while his mouth is still open, tongue still out. "No," Jonathan says, and his other thumb sweeps over Billy's cheekbone. Billy feels vaguely like he just got caught stealing out of the cookie jar. "I don't want to come down your throat, babe." He's quiet, holds Billy's face in his hands and pets him soothingly, drags one of his thumbs over Billy's lower lip before he's slipping it inside, just for a moment.

It should be _too_ soft, too gentle for Billy to really be able to handle, but Steve chooses that exact moment to slowly start working one of his fingers into Billy as well. Steve's fingers are big and thick in a way that Nancy's aren't, in a way that even Jonathan's aren't. Nancy has let up on his prostate, yeah, but she doesn't actually pull her fingers _out_ of him, just stretches them wide like she's making room for Steve to fit alongside her.

It's just one of his. Four in total. Billy's taken so much more. 

Maybe it's the combination that's got him spinning out, light-headed with it. That's the only excuse he's got for the way he's leaning heavy into Jonathan's hand, would collapse into his lap if it weren't for that point of contact holding him up. There are little punched out sounds escaping him as Steve brushes his finger over Billy's prostate once, and then goes back for more. Steve _presses_ , deliberate, and Billy's cock kicks as he gives a strangled, choked moan. 

A desperate noise claws its way from Billy's mouth as Steve does it again, rubs inside him as he kisses the right side of Billy's lower back just opposite of where Nancy's still got her forehead against his skin. Gentle counterpoints to an equally gentle assault. 

"Yeah," he finally says. "You're ready."

Steve works his fingers out. He goes slow, so that even this part feels like a tease - the catch and drag against Billy's rim. Nancy follows suit, and Billy's suddenly _empty._ He feels like he should be fitting around a plug, or that Steve's hands should be curling around his hips to drag him back onto Steve's cock. He's waiting for something familiar and knows he's going to get something different, and anticipation tickles at the base of his spine. 

Instead, though, it's Nancy's hands that fit there. Small, but comfortable all the same. Like they belong there. The bed gives a little bounce as she, presumably, situates herself behind him, and Billy can't help the way that his lip quirks up at the corner. The height difference isn't as pronounced when they're like this, Billy knows from experience, but he's got to imagine that the sight of her with the harness and the strap-on right now is some weird combination of hot and cute that he's not prepared to actually look at. The _thought_ of it is a lot - he hadn't wanted to see, just in case it didn't live up to his fantasy, which is ridiculous. 

Steve's hand finds the back of his neck, and Jonathan lets go of his hair, finally, drags his fingers down Billy's jaw instead. 

Billy takes a deep breath as Steve's thumb rubs over the skin, digs into the muscle of his neck just a little. "You're gonna look _so fucking good,"_ he says again, all sincere, earnest heat. "You better ask her nicely."

Billy can do that. God, in this kind of situation, Billy can be on his best behavior. It's all about the right kind of reinforcement. Nancy's got that caretaking kind of dominance when she's got the reins, the kind that means she gets " _disappointed_ " instead of angry. Billy's hardly ever an honest-to-god asshole with her anymore, not like he is with Steve or even Jonathan sometimes, because most of the time he just really doesn't want to let her down. It throws him for a loop pretty often. 

Truth be told, he doesn't want to let any of them down. 

So he licks his lips, tongue quick and too dry to do any good, and says, "Please." 

The hand on the back of his neck doesn't move, but there's a little nudge of pressure against his hole. Lube-slick silicone, catching and pulling away again. _Teasing_. Nancy's a tease when she wants to be, likes to get Billy worked up for it with sweet, gentle little touches. Likes to work Jonathan up the same way, likes to tease Steve until he caves and scratches whatever submissive itch she's got going that tempted her to poke him in the first place. 

She's the kind of girl that can get away with murder, isn't Billy's _usual_ type in women at all. He usually likes 'em a little meaner. But then, none of this is his _usual_. None of them are. He's never fallen into actual relationship, let alone one with three people he doesn't feel like he deserves.

Nancy's voice draws him out of his own head. "Please what?" she asks. Even though she trimmed her nails short for this evening in particular, they scratch pleasantly all the same across his hip. Not sharp, not painful, no chance of breaking the skin. Just barely past a tickle, a little shock of sensation that has him trying to rock back to chase more, to get that fake cock sliding in. He's open, he's stretched, he _knows_ it could slip in easy as anything, but she's just barely inside. Just the tip. The weight of Steve's hand holds him in place, though, keeps Billy from taking more than he's given. 

It's not rough. It's the perfect grounding feeling, complements the way that Jonathan's fingers are still so soothing on his face. Almost too soft, pushes him to the edge in a way that he's not used to. Sometimes the point isn't to make Billy behave. Sometimes the point is to overpower him with so many good feelings that he sinks down like a stone in the water, to that little place where he _wants_ to be good. Thinks he's actually _capable_ of being good.

So when it comes down to it, it's simple. Overwhelming, but ultimately painless, to say, "Please fuck me, Nance." Breathed out like a little secret, like it's the dirtiest thing Billy's ever said. He's said a lot of dirty things, far more vulgar than this little phrase. This one just feels... vulnerable. 

"Good," she says, and sounds like she's smiling, like it's some kind of reward for her, too. 

The feeling of Nancy sliding home is different than Billy expected. It's so good. It's so fucking _good_. Steve's hand is heavy and hot on the back of Billy's neck, and he doesn't know what his face is doing when Jonathan tilts his gaze up to him. He's grateful when Jonathan pulls him into a lazy, unhurried kiss. The toy is firm and unforgiving, not big, not like Steve is big, but there's no... _give_ , no heat like there is with a real cock. Billy's breath hitches as Nancy works it in, inch by inch, fingers gentle where they hold his hips. She won't stop him if he tries to pull away. She can't, really, which is what keeps him in place just as much as Steve's hold or Jonathan's kiss does. 

They used enough lube. It's an easy slide, so she could go faster if she wanted to. She's going slow for Billy's benefit, he knows, and that's a heady a thought as every dirty fantasy he's ever had. His breath hitches, Jonathan licking his way inside his mouth while Billy can't give as good as he's getting. 

It shouldn't be so _much_. It should be _easy_ , just another notch in the bedpost, another thing scratched off of his long, long list. But Billy's arms are shaking, still, like they do when he's already been fucked roughly into the bed and they're about to give out. He doesn't want to examine why this is so much for him, so deliciously overwhelming in a way that has him halfway-gone when they've barely just started. Now's not the time, anyway - not when Nancy's finally _in_ , weight sunk into him and stilling.

It's white noise. Billy doesn't even realize that Jonathan's stopped kissing him. Or, rather, that he's stopped kissing Jonathan, mouth open to catch a breath he can't get as Jonathan brushes his hair back out of his face for him. He's vaguely aware that Steve's saying something, gentle shushes as he rubs his thumb into the tense line of Billy's neck. 

It's _so much_. It shouldn't be so much.

"So good," Steve says, leans over and noses his way down Billy's neck. The bed shifts as he goes, drags his hand down the line of Billy's spine and back up again, soothing him. "God, baby, you're doing so good. Take your time, get used to it. This is your show." And then, with a filthy little tilt to the words, he adds, "You're gonna be like this for a while. Better get comfortable."

Which. Fuck. Yeah, he is. 

"Billy," Nancy says, shifts just a little. Testing. Billy thinks he might _cry_ , it's so fucking good. "I'm gonna go slow."

Slow sounds like a good plan. Billy's cracking at the seams, chipping away into little flecks of gold in their hands. He still manages to find his tongue, fit his mouth around the words, "Yeah, yes, _please_." 

It's a delicious drag out, almost all the way. His fingers twist in the sheets on either side of Jonathan's legs, as he waits, suspended, for what he knows is coming. Then she's shifting, fucking into him sudden and devastating, a smooth slide where he's open and ready. The groan that tears out of him is animal, fades into a high, keening whine that he's never heard himself make. 

"Good?" Steve asks, smug and indulgent. He knows the answer already, of course he does. They all do, Billy can tell by the way that Jonathan smiles against his jaw and Nancy huffs out a little breath of a laugh. "Is it good, baby, do you _like_ it?"

Usually, Billy runs his mouth. It's innate, his pathological need to keep a running commentary of filth going until they shut him up. Right now, he can't find the words he usually relies on. Instead, he gives a jerky nod and tries to press back, tries to take more of the fake cock that's filling him with steady, easy strokes. 

"Tell her." Steve's breath is hot behind Billy's ear, makes him shiver. "If you like it, you better tell her. She might stop if you don't."

Fuck, he really will cry if she stops. He doesn't think he can take the teasing like he usually can, it feels like it cuts a little too close. Threatens something that he wants a little too badly. "Don't stop," he chokes out, desperate. "Don't - Nan, please don't, I _can't_ -"

She shushes him, sets a deep, rocking rhythm that's no less shattering for how slow it is. "I won't stop, Steve didn't mean it," Nancy says. 

There's a thudding sound, the quick slap of what Billy presumes is the back of Nancy's hand hitting whatever part of Steve she can reach, and Steve jerks a little. "I didn't mean it," he says, apologetically. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to make you worry. I didn't mean it, she won't stop until you ask her, okay? What's the word, baby, what's your safeword?"

Billy can't think with the slow motion of the strap-on, can't even comprehend words when Nancy's got his hips in her hands, squeezing like she's getting just as much out of this as he is. It's the static of sensation, and he wants _more_ , presses back to chase it in case it's taken from him. Steve's hand is still gentle in his hair, but stops him all the same.

"Stop for a second, but don't pull out," he hears Steve say, in that tone that offers no chances to argue or negotiate. "He needs a breather, it's too much."

The motion stops, the strap-on fully in him, and Nancy smooths her hands down his back while Jonathan continues pressing little kisses to his face. Steve leans over, moves his hand from Billy's hair to his jaw in a gentle, sweeping motion, shushing him when Billy stutters out a breath.

"You're okay," Steve says, soft, and turns Billy's face to him. "Hey, we need you here for a minute. We can't keep going if we're not sure you can remember how to stop." 

It takes Billy a minute to come back from the spiral of overwhelming feelings both physical and emotional. He thinks this is what a raw nerve feels like, gone haywire and shooting signals. He's trembling, he realizes when he finally blinks and focuses on Steve, and not like the kind of trembling that means he's worked out too long or too hard. 

Steve smiles at him, nudges Billy's nose with his own. "Hey, baby. It's a lot, huh?"

"Yeah." Fuck, but Billy sounds rough, swallows around the ragged feeling in his own throat. "It's... 's so good."

"Is it too much?" That's Steve's serious-voice, the one he puts on when he's taking care of you come hell or high water. Billy secretly loves that voice, revels in it even if he still doesn't know what to do with it sometimes. "You need to stop?"

Jonathan's still got his hands on Billy, long fingers combing through his hair and carefully, patiently working the tangles out. There are more constellations being kissed onto Billy's back where Nancy's draped over him, and the pressure inside him from the strap-on is becoming a little more tolerably pleasant instead of brain-breakingly, overwhelmingly good. It had been... 'a lot' is a good description of it. Too much too soon, almost, even if it's nothing that Billy technically hasn't done before. Maybe the best and the worst parts are both the way that the three of them are holding him, treating him like something fragile. 

Steve is waiting patiently, knows Billy needs to really take stock of himself. In the bedroom, Steve calls the shots far more often than not. Billy hardly ever calls the shots, finds a comfort in letting someone else make the decisions and basks in the freedom that comes with letting go. This is where Billy can succeed, isn't set up to fail a game that's rigged from the start unless that's what Billy _wants_. 

Outside of the bedroom, they all bend and move around each other, carve out spaces in their lives for people they never expected to want to keep around. It's so good sometimes that Billy's afraid he'll break it. Maybe that's why this is so overwhelming - he wants it _so badly_. 

It helps that he knows they can stop at any time, and no one will be mad at him for it. He feels safe, now that he's not in the throes of it, afraid that he'll play the game wrong. 

Safe enough that he can catch his breath, held there in their gentle hands. "I don't want to stop," Billy finally says, and the words don't feel like broken glass tearing through his throat. It's taken him a lot to get where he can admit these things, even in a roundabout way. "Don't... you gotta be gentle with me, Stevie. Okay?"

Steve nods, lips brushing over Billy's cheek again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you like that. I'll be more careful."

"I'll keep him in check," Nancy says, jokingly. Her hands are almost ticklish where they're dancing down his spine. 

There are still hands in Billy's hair, too, calmly petting him. Careful of the curls in the way that Jonathan's careful with everything else in the world he cares about. Billy's been the subject of a few of his pictures, both for his official portfolio and for the album he keeps on his phone just for them. Jonathan's quiet, but he's _there_.

So Billy nods, and when Steve asks about his safeword again, he says, " _Red_ or _Beamer_ to stop, _yellow_ to slow down."

"Good." Steve smiles, fingers petting on the skin where his hand is still cupping Billy's jaw. "You think you're ready for more?"

Normally, Billy would come up with something kinda snarky like _"I'm only getting older here."_ Today he can manage a nod, opens his mouth just as Nancy shifts, hands finding his hips again. The fake cock moves when she does, and Billy's mouth falls open on a gasp, hands twisting in the sheets still under him. "Please," he says, instead of the hundred cocky things he could conjure up if he had a little more brain cells to devote to the task. 

"You're so good," Nancy murmurs again. Maybe someone would think they were telling him too often, but Billy loves to hear it, even if he'll never really admit how _much_ he loves it. It's not a concept that he heard very often before all of them - the idea that Billy Hargrove could ever be good is a foreign one. 

The more they say it, the more he's starting to think that he _can_ be good. 

She moves, and Billy gives a shiver, little surprised noises dropping from him because he can't find the wherewithal to quiet himself. Steve draws him into a kiss, and then he's pulling away, settling back a little farther on the edge of the bed. His eyes linger on Billy's face, flit to where Billy's split open on Nancy's strap-on, and then go back like the sight of Billy panting and blissed-out is more worth watching than the main event. 

Jonathan's hands are still in Billy's hair. Now that Steve's off to the side, he tilts Billy's face back towards him, slightly calloused fingers gentle. One thing about Jonathan is that he's _always_ gentle, never gets rough, never gets into the humiliation games that Billy and Steve and even Nancy sometimes play. He's sweet, he's passionate, he's _soft_ around Billy in a way that most people have never dared to be. It's... humbling sometimes, Jonathan's quietly fond smile. 

The other thing about Jonathan is that his reticence hides a wickedly dirty mouth. He's _creative,_ too, says so many things that Billy never would have expected from him. From Jonathan he'd always thought (when he'd dared to think about it, before) that Jonathan's dirty talk repertoire would be vanilla, _sweet_. Full of pet names and phrases like "make love." The kind of sex where you stare deep into each others' eyes and get off on the intimacy more than the action.

Which, well. Billy wasn't _wrong_ exactly.

Jonathan kisses at Billy's cheek as Nancy slowly rocks into him, driving Billy to distraction in short, smooth increments. Then Jonathan's sliding his mouth right up against Billy's ear, nibbling in a way that tickles more than it stings. This is how he does dirty talk, quietly for no one else to hear. Personal.

Intimate.

"You're so gorgeous," Jonathan whispers, like it's a secret. Billy's breath catches, and he can't figure out if it's from Jonathan's voice or Nancy picking up the pace _just_ a little more or the weight of Steve's eyes, watching this show they're practically putting on for him. "We're so lucky, you know that? You're so good for us, thank you for trusting us with this."

He'd been wrong. It's less dirty talk and more the quiet reassurances that Billy never, ever admits that he needs. They know what he needs anyway, can read him like he's scrawled out his life story into a book just for them. It's a strange juxtaposition, honestly, between Nancy's pace not as fast but _deep_ , and Jonathan's quiet little whispers. Billy gets off on it when he can handle being at the center of it all like this. He's kind of glad that Steve's just watching, thinks that having Steve too close right now, with all of _this_ , might be too claustrophobic.

Steve probably knows. It's probably why he backed off. 

It should be terrifying that they know Billy so well.

Nails gently rake down Billy's scalp, soothing scratches that just spin him higher into sensation. Jonathan keeps murmuring things to him, but Billy's focus shifts into the way that Nancy seems to be getting more confident, getting a feel for how this _works_. She's a natural, of course she is. There are little noises, barely-there gasps and moans, that spill from him as Nancy fucks him. He's hard, leaking onto the bedspread that they'll have to throw in the wash later, and if Billy thought he could take his own weight, he'd wrap a hand around his cock. 

As it is, his arms are shaking already. He's pinned between Jonathan and Nancy, between a gentle hand in his hair and the fake cock inside him. He _wants_ , turns his face to find Steve watching him, warm brown eyes blown black. If Billy could look away from that gaze, he's sure he'd see Steve hard, still trapped behind his jeans while he waits for his turn. Billy doesn't feel claustrophobic anymore, rides the hazy line between _too much_ and _so good_. He knows his eyes are half-lidded and his face is flushed. His mouth is open just a little, and he can't find the motor skills to close it. 

"Hey, hotshot," Steve says. His voice goes so deep when he's turned on, Billy's started association that tone with sex. "You want me to come over there?"

Billy licks his lip. "Yeah," he rasps out. "Please."

Steve's lips curl into a crooked, open-mouthed smile. "You want me to touch you?"

There's an answer on the tip of his tongue - a plea, probably - but Nancy picks that moment to fuck into him again, nails Billy's prostate in the most excruciating pleasure. It sends shockwaves up Billy's spine. His arms finally give out, making him collapse into Jonathan's lap with a long, loud moan. She doesn't let up, lingers there and then fucks into him again, quick and easy. 

She eases off, pets a hand down his side and then grabs at his ass, gropes without digging in, spreads his cheeks apart. Billy's desperate, tries to get his arms under him again and rock back to chase more. Instead, he gets manhandled - literally lifted while Jonathan eases out from beneath his head and Steve slips in. Steve slides under him, gets those long legs spread around Billy's knees and his neck right where Billy can bury his face.

"So gorgeous," Steve says, curls his hand around the back of Billy's head and holds him there, in the curve of his shoulder. "So fuckin' good, babe, you're taking it so well. You wanna come?"

Billy's voice comes out muffled, face pressed to Steve's skin. There's a hand stroking down his back, and Nancy's still rocking in slow, hands on Billy's ass. He would feel exposed if he thought he could speak. "Please, Stevie, please," he murmurs, hopes Steve can actually hear him. 

Big hands join Nancy's where they're still on Billy's ass. Instead of gropes, though, Billy gets hauled up until he's sprawled over Steve. Steve kicks his legs a little wider apart as Nancy slides right back in. A gentle hand strokes down the line of his back, too big to be Nancy's. Her hands are curled around Billy's hips again.

"You can come," Steve says, and Jonathan's hand is pressing him down suddenly, just heavy enough that Billy's cock is well and truly trapped between himself and Steve's lower abdomen. 

Steve is still dressed. Jeans and one of those pastel shirts he likes to wear. Billy's leaking all over the soft, expensive fabric of Steve's shirt. 

"You're gonna come just like this." Steve's hands cover Nancy's on Billy's hips, moving him back onto the strap-on and forward to rut against Steve's stomach. "You can do it, be a good boy."

Nancy's rhythm changes to meet the one that Steve's set. She's no less accurate, meets Billy's hips with her own and hits his prostate every single time. Billy can't hide the noises, has to break away from Steve's neck to try and catch his breath. Jonathan's hand is still heavy on his back, pressing him down until he's grinding against Steve's body, stuttering out things that he doesn't really think are words.

It builds. There are words drifting around him, Steve's voice telling him _"you're so good, just like that"_ and _"come on, Billy, come for us."_ Nancy drives deep again, presses in and drapes her upper body over Billy's back, stays there like she's trying to electrocute him with the shocky waves of pleasure that he can't escape.

It's too much. It's just enough. It's everything Billy wants.

He grabs at Steve's arms as he shoots between them, covers that expensive shirt in come. After a moment of tensing, Billy fully drops his weight, knows Steve can take it if he goes boneless and heavy. Steve's hand is gentle in his hair, long fingers combing through the sweaty tangles and knots as easy as anything. 

"So good, hotshot, you did so well," Steve's saying while Billy's breathing into his shoulder, lashes heavy. "Nancy's gonna pull out, okay? Nice and slow."

She does. Billy whines at the loss, the feeling of being empty. He feels like a raw nerve, stretched thin and electric. He hears the sound of straps being undone, metal on metal, notices the shift of the bed even as he doesn't care to move. It's only when weight settles on either side of where he's laying on Steve, one heavier than the other, that he turns his face out of the safety of Steve's shoulder. 

Nancy's the first he sees. She looks pleased, flushed and a little sweaty. He flings an arm out and drapes it over her waist, tugs her even closer. On his other side, Steve is doing the same with Jonathan, dragging him in until all of them are pressed up against Billy in one way or another. Her small hand cups his cheek as she leans in for a kiss, and then brushes a sweaty strand of hair from his forehead.

"Was it good?" she asks. "Everything you wanted?"

It takes Billy a minute to really be able to come up with an answer. He's still floating, everything gone cotton-soft around the edges of his thoughts. "Yeah," he manages, rough. "So good, Nance, thank you."

"Oh, trust me, it was my pleasure." That soft smile goes wicked for a second. 

"Gimme- gimme a second, I'll return the favor." They have a plan, after all. Jonathan takes a turn after Nancy while Billy gets Nancy off, and then Steve fucks him into the bed. Billy wants it, but he's not sure he can stay focused for any of it.

Steve taps at his waist with the arm he's got slung across Billy's hips, holding him tight and close. "I think you might be done, babe," he says. "That was pretty intense for you."

He's right, is the thing. Billy lets him make that call when they're like this, when they play these games. Sometimes Billy gets wrapped up in not being enough, in disappointing them by having to stop. Right now, though, he's too high on the feelings to feel inadequate in any way, can't feel anything but the warmth of their hands on him, the solid line of Steve underneath him. 

"Yeah," Billy says around a yawn, lazy and acquiescent in a way he never is with anyone but them. "Okay."

There's a kiss pressed to his shoulder. The weight of Jonathan behind him moves and then disappears completely. Billy doesn't even have time to object to him slipping away before he's back, and Steve is nudging Billy to roll to the spot that Jonathan vacated. He goes without protest, settles his head onto Steve's shoulder. Steve is the best pillow. Jonathan's also a good pillow. So is Nancy. Whenever Billy can let himself chill out enough to cuddle up to them, anyway.

The wipes are cold when Jonathan runs them over his skin, and Billy jerks at the first touch. "Sorry," Jonathan says. "We gotta get you clean before you fall asleep."

Billy lets it happen, just enjoys the gentle buoyancy he's got going on, watches the mesmerizing rise and fall of Steve breathing until his eyes close. They open again when Steve wiggles away, replaced by the much smaller frame of Nancy, pressing close to Billy's front as naked as can be.

They're treating him like he's fragile.

He's not sure he likes it, most of the time. He doesn't have long to dwell on it, though, before Steve is back and curling up behind him, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, gently moving him so that Billy's the little spoon, arm draped around Nancy with her head under his chin. Jonathan's back soon enough too, stretching out on the other side of Nancy and fitting his arm under her head. They're tangled so tightly together, on this king size bed that Steve paid for with his dad's money before he was cut off, under the string lights that Nancy loves, with a large print of a picture that Jonathan took hung on the wall above the bed. 

"Take a nap," Steve says quietly, nosing up behind Billy's ear. He's still hard, Billy can feel, but if Steve's not worried about it, Billy's not gonna worry about it. He's done. Steve said so. "I love you."

Nancy sighs out the same sentiment, followed by the wordless reassurance of Jonathan's hand tangling with his own on Nancy's waist. 

They don't think he's fragile, Billy realizes. That's not the right word. They don't treat him like something that can be broken. They treat him like they cherish him, like they _want_ to take care of him in this way. The same treatment everyone else gets in this relationship. He's safe here, safe and loved and cared for. 

So he closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.


End file.
